


The Necklace (alternate ending)

by themetafictionist



Series: school assignments [1]
Category: La Parure | The Necklace - Guy de Maupassant
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Gen, School Assignment, Suicide, Wrote this in ten minutes, author wasn't trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetafictionist/pseuds/themetafictionist
Summary: For a school assignment to write an alternate ending to "The Necklace" by Guy de Maupassant
Relationships: Mathilde Loisel/Monsieur Loisel
Series: school assignments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981480





	The Necklace (alternate ending)

For a moment, it seemed as though Mme. Loisel was saved. Mme. Forestier had been fooled successfully. She sighed with relief when she returned home. They _would_ find the original necklace, she promised. She could not let all her husband’s fortune go to ruin.

The next day, when Mme. Loisel walked out of the house, she was greeted by a furious crowd chanting “Thief! Thief!” as they hurled stones and rotten fruit at her. She cried out as she turned and fled back into the house.

“What’s happening?” asked Loisel.

She was sobbing now. _“They know! How did they find out—they know—”_ There was a knock on the door.

Mme. Loisel didn’t seem to be able to care. “Go,” she managed to gasp out through her tears. Loisel opened the door.

It was Mme. Forestier.

“May I come in?” Without waiting for his response, she sauntered towards the living room and sat down without invitation. In her hand, she held the case, opened to reveal the fake string of diamonds.

“You thought I would not notice, my dear Mathilde?” She smiled something terrible, a sickly-sweet grin that twisted her beautiful features into those of a demon. “You poor, poor, _poor_ soul. I always knew. I was the one who informed our neighbors what you did.” She leaned in. “You see—you may borrow the finery of a better woman, and they might even believe you, but the moment you come home, you reveal who you truly are.”

“Please—” Mme. Loisel whispered. “Please, you don’t have to do this—”

“Don’t you understand, foolish woman? It’s too late. The news will have reached the police already. The should be here in, oh, around five minutes or so, and you will receive your due.”

“Please—I’m begging you—you are my best friend, my only true friend—”

Forestier cackled, the sound high and cold, chilling her to the bone. _“Friend?”_ she spat. “You really believed someone like _you_ could be a _friend_ to a lady of my station? You are _nothing_ but a filthy impostor! Well, I suppose it is fitting. We have both deceived each other. _Au revoir_ , darling. I suppose I shall see you in prison, if I ever desire to visit.” She rose, spun on her heel, and left through the door. The Loisels were too shell-shocked to even think about stopping her.

For a moment, the pair stared at the door in silence. Then, Loisel sprung into action. “They will not catch us so easily, even if we are surrounded,” he snarled. He began to barricade the door as best he could with their scant furniture. Mme. Loisel shook her head. She knew it was futile to cling to hope now.  
They would owe even more money now that their deceit was exposed. He would have no way of paying back all those ruinous loans he had made. He would surely sink in debt and dishonor. Her life was ruined as well—now everyone _knew_ that she was a fake—and even worse, a thief. Everything she had ever worked for was gone. She had nothing left. _Escape_ , she thought. _Finally._

The police arrived a few minutes later. They easily broke down the door and its flimsy barricade and grabbed Monsieur Loisel. “Where is your wife?” one of them shouted. “Where is the thief?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, sir!” he babbled. “She left, she went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea—”

“There’s no one in the kitchen!” another officer called back. They began to search the house. Loisel felt a sudden sense of terrible foreboding. _Where—_

They found Mme. Loisel in the bathroom with the sharpest kitchen knife buried in her heart, her tired body slumped over the cold floor. Loisel screamed and screamed and screamed when he saw. He didn’t fight when the officers dragged him off to prison for assisting in theft. 

They buried her in an unmarked grave. She had no funeral, but the mob turned up anyway, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables at where she was buried. Hers received no flowers.


End file.
